


Yours Is No Disgrace

by Skyblaze



Series: And You And I [3]
Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Episode Fix-it, F/M, Serial: s088 Deadly Assassin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 13:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17850329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyblaze/pseuds/Skyblaze
Summary: The Doctor and Sarah travel to Gallifrey to prevent an assassination and find intrigue and danger, as well as disapproval of their relationship. A re-write of 'Deadly Assassin' with Sarah Jane, as it was meant to be.





	Yours Is No Disgrace

Yours Is No Disgrace

_You and I can change the world;_   
_The more we live, the more we learn, the more we know._

 

“Doctor! Doctor!” Sarah Jane called to the near-comatose man in her arms, desperate for him to acknowledge her, to reassure her that he was all right.

“No…no!” He moaned, stirring restlessly. Sarah didn’t know what to think. First that split second of confused silence from him, then he had moved, announcing that he had to return to Gallifrey…not too long after that, he had suddenly jerked, began staring into space as if looking at a vision only he could see. Then he had cried out and crumpled to the floor as though struck by an unseen force. The echoes of his pain tore through their strange emotional link, leaving her with a terrific headache and a terrible sense of foreboding.

Sarah had run to his side, terrified for him, fearing there was something very wrong.

“Doctor, please, tell me what’s wrong!” She fretted. His brilliant blue eyes flicked open,

“The President…someone’s going to kill the President…” He gripped her hand tightly in his, as if drawing strength from her presence.

“What?” Sarah gasped. The Doctor hauled himself to his feet with some difficulty and stared at the central console.

“We’ve arrived.” He whispered. Then he turned to stare at her. “Sarah, “He said with utter seriousness, “I need you to stay here in the TARDIS.”

“But Doctor…” she objected automatically, but the words died in her throat as she saw the look in his eyes, they were desperately concerned …almost fearful. He was afraid for her. “Please, Sarah. This is very important. Gallifrey is a very dangerous place just now. I want you to go as far into the TARDIS as you can and find a place to hide.”

The look in his eyes convinced her to do as he asked. She looked at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Please be careful, Doctor.” She said into his neck. He returned her embrace just as fiercely.

“I will.”

 

The waiting was awful.

Sarah crouched in a small space deep inside the TARDIS, hearing only the rapid sound of her breathing as she waited and worried.

The Doctor was such a…a little boy sometimes. She knew his propensity for striding boldly into dangerous or even deadly situations. He could have gotten hurt, or arrested or….

She deliberately quashed that line of thought, trying to concentrate on the positive, but it wasn’t really working so well. Sarah found herself wringing her hands as in her mind’s eye, she saw the Doctor in over a dozen creatively perilous situations, most drawn from memories of their time together.

He had been gone for a long time now…or perhaps her perception of time had been skewed by her desperate worry for him. Hah, time in the home of the Time Lords, the thought struck her as almost funny, but she quickly stifled her laughter when she heard soft footsteps coming down the corridor. She held her breath for a moment, until she felt a tickle of...something... run across her mind. She could feel something that was as quick and bright as a flash of lightning, yet was overlain by the wisdom of a whole lifetime. Sarah ran from her hiding place, straight into the Doctor’s arms.

“Sarah, didn’t I tell you to stay hidden?” He asked in mock severity. Sarah just smiled up at him.

“I knew it was you.” She said softly. The Doctor looked mildly surprised by that statement, but gently took her hand and led her back to the console room and began fiddling with the controls. Sarah took a seat in one of the elegant Edwardian wing chairs as she watched him work.

“How did you get away from those guards?”

“Hmm? Oh, I created a diversion.” He said nonchalantly.

“My, aren’t we blasé.” She replied with a faint smile, though she could tell he wasn’t really listening as he muttered to himself, battling valiantly with the TARDIS controls until he let out a triumphant “Ah ha!” and the wooden shutters around the monitor cleared to reveal a fairly young-looking Time Lord who identified himself as working for Public Register Video.

‘Probably the local equivalent of the Evening News.’ Sarah thought to herself.

The commentator droned on, his dull, monotone voice speculating about the possible identity of the new President when suddenly the Doctor laughed.

“I knew I’d seen him before – it’s Runcible. Runcible the Fatuous.”

“You know him?” Sarah queried.

“Oh, I did once. He was one of my classmates at the Academy. And a more boring, pedantic individual you have never met.”

Then the monitor view seemed to switch of its own accord, suddenly showing an outside view of the TARDIS…and a group of guards attaching some strange objects to the Police Box’s surface.

“What are they…” Sarah never got to finish her sentence as she was overwhelmed by the agonising sensation of being torn apart by some unseen force. She tried to scream, but couldn’t. There was so air to carry the sound…and her vocal chords had already gone…she was floating in an airless void. Emptiness surrounded her, filled her, swallowed her, dragging her inexorably towards insanity – but through it all she could still feel the nova-bright sparkle of the Doctor’s presence, offering her a lifeline.

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it was over, and Sarah found herself once again inside her own skin, sprawled ungracefully on the floor of the TARDIS console room. The Doctor’s body covered hers; trying to offer whatever protection he could to her more fragile form – however futile it was. She could feel his alien coolness even through the layers of clothing that separated them. Their eyes locked, and for just an instant she could read the tides of emotion in them, the uncertainty, but still the unshakable determination, deep affection and pride. She inhaled, wanting to kiss him, but not knowing yet how that gesture would be received, not here, not now…

Then he found his voice, and the spell was broken.

“What a way to travel…” He said, picking himself up and moving back towards the console.

“Where are we?” Sarah asked in a shaky voice, “And what on Earth just happened?”

“Well, it looks like the TARDIS was matter tranducted into the Museum.”

“Museum?” She asked him, but the Doctor didn’t answer her, instead grabbing her arm and almost dragging him towards the door.

“Come on, we have to stop them from killing the President! We might not have much time left!”

Relieved to finally be included, but at the same time fearful for both their safety, Sarah followed him. At least she might be able to keep an eye out for him…

 

\---

 

From this moment on we share the world;  
The more we give, the more we love, the more we grow.

 

Once again, Sarah found herself in hiding. She was getting rather tired of it, actually.

This time, she was behind a large, heavy drape – one of several that decorated the Great Hall of the Panopticon.

Taking a careful look around, Sarah reflected on how the city looked almost exactly as it had in the vision the Doctor had shown her. There was the same aura of antiquity, timelessness. Or perhaps it was just the strange, dusty smell in the air that reminded her of old Libraries and Museums and gave her that feeling of dignity and quiet.

Everything seemed constructed of the same shimmering green material. Sarah couldn’t decide if it were supposed to be metal, stone or crystal as it seemed to change every time she looked at it. It was beautiful, but it was a frozen, sterile beauty – held in a perpetual stasis of loveliness that she suspected the inhabitants of this world had long since stopped noticing.

Her eyes fell on the Doctor as he moved fluidly through the Hall. She couldn’t help but smile at how he looked in that ridiculous Time Lord formal wear with its silly high collar. But even dressed like everyone else, something about him still seemed to stand out. It was something about the way her moved…or perhaps just the way his resonant voice carried, even when he didn’t want it to. He was talking to that newsreader they had seen on the monitor earlier…what was his name? Runfeld…? No, Runcible, that was it.

Bells rang out across the room, almost deafening Sarah.

From behind another set of drapes, an old, dignified figure appeared, wearing white robes draped with a brilliant gold sash and carrying a long sceptre. From the corner of her eye she saw a flash of movement as the Doctor span and darted up towards the gallery at the top of the Hall…then one of the robed Time Lords reached inside his robes and drew some sort of weapon.

Sarah didn’t even have time to scream as a bright flash blinded her for an instant…and when her vision cleared, she saw the old man in the white robes lying motionless on the floor while several of the other Time Lords fussed over his body.

“The Lord President is dead!” One of them wailed.

There was another flurry of movement as two guards arrived, dragging an inert figure between them.

“We found him up in the Gallery.” One of them said, tilting his head back to reveal his face. It was the Doctor.

“Doctor!” Sarah cried, throwing all caution to the winds as she sprinted out from her hiding place and rushed to his side.

“What is this!” One of the Time Lords exclaimed. Another Time Lord, this one dressed in the same scarlet and orange robes as the Doctor, stepped forward, his stern, haughty face set in an expression of anger.

“He killed the President, and brought and alien here against all law.” He said, gesturing contemptuously at the unconscious form of the Doctor, “His trial must begin immediately.”

“But, Chancellor Goth,” One of the other Time Lords protested, “I need time for an investigation…”

“This is a Constitutional crisis, Spandrell.” Goth cut him off, “The President died without naming a successor – the election must be held within forty-eight hours.”

Spandrell sighed and gestured to one of the men behind him.

“Take the Doctor away for questioning.” He ordered before turning back to Sarah, “What shall I do with the alien, Chancellor?”

Goth turned and his cold gaze raked over Sarah with the power of a laser blast. The sheer weight of his contempt almost bowled her over, and she shuddered.

“Take her to secure quarters within the Citadel. And put a guard on her at all times.”

With that, the Chancellor turned and left. Spandrell took Sarah’s elbow and led her from the room.

“This way please, Miss.”

“My name is Sarah Jane Smith.” Sarah said, primly.

“I am Castellan Spandrell. I am responsible for security here in the Capitol.” He said, distantly. Sarah sniffed disdainfully.

“You didn’t seem to be doing a good job back there.” Sarah said with uncharacteristic sharpness. Spandrell looked at her.

“There hasn’t been any real incidents on violent crime in the Capitol for centuries.” He replied. “We were not expecting it.”

“We have a phrase on my world – Expect the Unexpected.”

“Ah...and what world is that?” He asked, actually sounding genuinely curious.

“Earth.” Sarah replied, softly and an image of her home swam into view before her mind’s eye.

“Sol Three? The Doctor was exiled there for a time, was he not?”

Sarah didn’t bother to answer.

“What’s going to happen to him?” She asked quietly. Spandrell sighed.

“He will be questioned, and then – most likely - a vaporisation chamber will be prepared for his execution.”

Sarah gasped, “Doesn’t he even get a trial?” She demanded, appalled that this supposedly advanced people could practice such cold brutality.

“I don’t know. Usually I would say yes…but under these circumstances…”

“But he’s innocent!” She cried.

“That isn’t for me to decide.”

Sarah looked at him, an indefinable look on her face. “Can I see him?”

Spandrell couldn’t look at her. This entire situation discomforted him beyond all measure. So many things were happening so quickly. The passion in this woman’s voice was both disturbing and inspiring to a Time Lord such as he, and the loyalty she showed to the Doctor was…unusual. He felt, strangely, like he owed her something.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He sighed.

 

\---

 

Why are restraints like these always so uncomfortable…the Doctor mused to himself and he felt the manacles tear at the skin on his wrists. His gaze drifted over to Hildred, who was examining a sheet of the thin plastic used on Gallifrey for printouts. They knew what was coming. Interrogation was a polite Time Lord euphemism for ‘torture’. Pain inducers, violent mind probing…he often had trouble believing that his people, for all their assumed superiority over other being, could practice such brutality.

Without even looking up, Hildred pressed a tiny button on his belt.

Agony tore through the Doctor’s nerves, screaming through every cell in his body. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, focussing on shielding the link he shared with Sarah to try and spare her from the pain.

Somewhere in the distance, out beyond the deafening sound of his hearts beating too fast, he could hear Hildred’s bored monotone asking him a question. Something to do with the President…he mumbled some answer, not even knowing what it was he said…his mind still caught up in the place where his emotions touched Sarah’s. Taking a few deep breaths, he drew strength from her warm, steady presence and opened his eyes again.

“Haven’t you done yet, Hildred?” Spandrell’s irritated voice came through the fog. “Ahh…here comes Tweedle Dee.” The Doctor said vaguely. Spandrell gave him an annoyed glance.

“Well, Doctor, we wouldn’t have to resort to such primitive measures if you would simply confess your complicity in this matter…”

The Doctor chuckled, “The hot and cold technique…oldest trick in the book. Do you really think I’d fall for that, hmm?”

“I’m not trying any ‘technique’ – hot or cold. I am simply here to inform you that the vaporisation chamber is being readied for your execution. You have roughly three hours left to you.” Spandrell said coldly.

The Doctor’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing in fury.

“Vaporization without representation is against the constitution!” He yelled.

“Doctor, the fact that you are even here on Gallifrey is extremely suspicious to many on the High Council. Most will already have their minds made up – trial or no trial.”

“And you were found in the gallery with a Staser rifle…”

“I was here to save the President, not to kill him!” The Doctor snapped, “Don’t you bother to read your mail, Spandrell?”

“Ah, so it was you that left that note. I’d be interested to know how exactly you knew about the assassination, Doctor.”

“I was in my TARDIS travelling through the Vortex when I heard the summons back to Gallifrey…then I saw a premonition of the President’s assassination.”

“Premonition?” Hildred gasped incredulously.

“I saw it as clear as I see you now.”

Spandrell sighed, “Get him down from there, Hildred,” He ordered, then glanced back up at the Doctor, “You have almost two hours before your trial, Doctor, so I’ve arranged for you to spend some time with your companion.”

 

\---

 

The room was surprisingly comfortable, considering. It had a plush bed, a soft, leather sofa and a neatly appointed bathroom. The only real problem with it was that she couldn’t get out.

Sarah paced up and down the red carpet, thoughts racing through her head too quickly. It was no wonder the Doctor had left this place. These people, with their cold, complacent attitude made her shiver…and the way some of them seemed to look at her, as if dissecting her with their eyes…it made Sarah feel like some obscure specimen destined for the vivisection table.

That man in the hall – Goth – he had been the worst. Quite frankly, he gave Sarah the creeps.

Just then, the door to her ‘cell’ opened, and Spandrell walked in, escorting the Doctor.

Sarah cried out and ran to him, embracing him fiercely. Spandrell’s parting words were barely heard over her euphoria at seeing the Doctor again.

“Remember, Doctor, you only have two hours.”

The door shut again and Sarah stepped back so she could look him over.

“Are you all right, Doctor?” She asked, noticing straight away that he had been stripped of those silly orange robes and was now dressed on a pair of plain red trousers, dark boots and a blowsy white shirt.

_He really looks…quite dishy dressed like that…_ Sarah thought, and then felt colour climb up her face as she realised just what she was thinking.

“I’m perfectly all right, Sarah.” The Doctor was reassuring her. She looked up at him.

“So what do we do now?”

The Doctor slumped down onto the sofa, putting his feet up onto the coffee table.

“Well, my trial is in two hours, I’ll just have to convince them that I’ve been framed.”

“That might not be easy…” She began, but he gently took one of her hands.

“Shhh…” He said, gently tugging her to sit next to him. He leaned in close and whispered, “I have a plan…”

Sarah laughed delightedly, “Now how did I know you would have?”

He grinned his lunatic smile at her before taking hold of her shoulders so she rested comfortably against his chest. Sarah tilted her head back to look at him, reflecting on how…vulnerable he seemed without his thick coat and scarf: as though he had been stripped of his armour. But it was more than that. She could see the tiredness in his eyes, a weariness she only saw when he was physically injured in some way. She passed no comment on it, knowing that no matter what his fellow Time Lords had put him through, he would have to carry on anyway – he would insist on it.

But, she could get him to rest for a little while.

Sarah nuzzled a little closer to him, affecting a yawn and letting her eyelids droop a little. It didn’t take much acting, as she was quite tired.

“Tired, Sarah?” The Doctor asked, “Maybe you should sleep.”

“Mmm hmm...” She agreed sleepily. The Doctor smiled and picked her up easily, carrying her to the soft bed. But when he set her down and turned to go back to the sofa, Sarah opened her eyes and grabbed his arm.

“Don’t go.” She said softly. He looked at her for a long moment before settling himself down beside her. Sarah closed her eyes and listened to his breathing until she heard it deepen to the point where she knew he was asleep.

She allowed herself a smile at having achieved even a small victory over Time Lord stubbornness today – it gave her hope for the future.

 

Sarah was staying as close as she could to him as they walked through the ancient corridors to the council rooms that were being used as a courtroom. She would look up at him occasionally, seeking reassurance from him, her eyes wide with fear. It didn’t take much to draw his confident bravado around him, to smile at her and, hopefully, project some of that confidence on to her.

In reality, he wasn’t all that certain of the outcome. The Doctor knew why Goth was rushing through this sham of a trial. It had been a long-standing custom for a newly elected President to pardon political prisoners.

It was still sometimes hard for him to believe that his people even kept political prisoners. It felt…harsh, draconian…even barbaric that they should do so. There were many unpleasant realities implicit in the world of the Time Lords. He had been away for so long that he had almost forgotten how truly unpleasant this place could be to someone who didn’t fit into a convenient mould. Well, it was true what the humans said: Absence did make the heart grow fonder. Or perhaps ‘out of sight, out of mind’ would be a better phrase.

Still, he had to wonder what Sarah must think of him after seeing and experiencing the indignities she had been put through since arriving here.

“Thank goodness you’re nothing like this lot.” Sarah whispered to him then, and the Doctor couldn’t suppress a brilliant smile.

At least she understood.

 

The trial dragged on and on. Witness after witness doddered into the ‘courtroom’ to offer their version of what they had seen. They were almost all old men, their voices as dry as dust and their testimonies cold and clinical.

The Doctor slumped in his chair, scribbling amusing caricatures of the Time Lords as they stood up to testify – quite frequently Sarah had needed to suppress a fit of the giggles at his outrageous little drawings. Only occasionally did he stand up to cross-examine a witness. It was, Sarah reflected, almost as if he were waiting for something.

As it turned out, he was.

The trial was evidently drawing to a close as the tall, haughty Time Lord called Goth stood up.

“Do you have any closing statements to make, Doctor?” Goth asked quite formally.

Sarah smiled to herself, knowing Goth had probably just made a big mistake. The Doctor grinned irrepressibly.

“As a matter of fact, I have.” He smiled, “Article 17.”

There was a chorus of gasps from all around the room. Sarah looked around, trying to grasp the significance of that particular statement, but the Doctor’s next remark made everything clear.

“I offer myself as a candidate for the Presidency.”

Sarah blinked in disbelief – this was the Doctor’s plan?

“This is outrageous!” Goth snapped.

“Article 17 is a guarantee of liberty and says that no candidate for office will in any way be debarred or restrained from presenting his claim.”

“I am aware of what it says Doctor!” Goth yelled.

“The Doctor does have that legal right, Chancellor.” Spandrell reminded Goth.

Goth’s eyes blazed furiously.

“You have forty-eight hours until the election, Doctor – this court will be adjourned until then.”

With that, Goth swept angrily from the room, most of the other Time Lords following discretely.

“Doctor, what was all that in aid of?” Sarah asked in confusion, “What did all that accomplish?”

“It bought me a little more time, Sarah. Forty-eight hours is better than two.”

Sarah peered up at him, “So, what do we do now?”

The Doctor nodded towards Spandrell.

“We try and convince the Castellan that I didn’t murder the President.”

“And then?”

“Hmm? Well, then we go back to the TARDIS.” He replied distractedly.

“Good, for a moment there I thought you might have developed a taste for white Presidential robes.” Sarah teased.

“Me? Never!”

 

_\---_

 

The great Panopticon hall was much darker and quieter than it had been a scant few hours ago, Sarah thought to herself as she watched the Doctor’s hands take up the bulky-looking staser rifle to show it to Spandrell. She wasn’t really listening to what he was saying…something about the sights being fixed. She was simply watching his movements, letting the deep, soothing rhythm of his voice calm her. There was something wonderful about his voice. Sarah had heard him use it as a tool to soothe, to command, to remonstrate. His voice had more authority and power than any other she had ever heard, but it never failed to make her feel safe. His voice had said everything would be all right…and she believed it.

Behind her, two men were busy searching for a scorch mark on the pristine green material of the walls, something that the Doctor said would prove he hadn’t fired that shot. Spandrell was speaking with that pompous little newsreader, Runcible - practically ordering him to go up to the gallery and bring down the video recordings of the assassination.

“What’s all this going to accomplish, Doctor?” Sarah asked uncertainly.

“Well, if Runcible can get a copy of those disks, hopefully one of them will show a shot of whoever did kill the President.”

Sarah was about to reply when a scream echoed out across the hall…it came from the gallery.

“Runcible!” The Doctor cried, sprinting towards the stairs and taking them two at a time. Sarah ran after him as fast as she could, adrenaline racing through her bloodstream. She stopped dead when she reached the top of the stairs and found the Doctor kneeling over Runcible’s inert body. Sarah felt slightly sick.

“Is he…?”

“No,” the Doctor replied, “He’s fainted…look there.” He said, gesturing towards the camera, Sarah looked, and to her horror, saw a withered, miniaturised figure stuffed in the top of the camera cylinder, the expression on its tiny face was one of abject terror.

“Ugh…” Sarah moaned, “That’s horrible.”

“Who would do something like that?” Spandrell asked from behind Sarah. Sarah jumped slightly…she hadn’t heard him approach. The Doctor stood up and looked with sombre eyes on the tiny body in the camera.

“That’s the result of tissue compression.” He said grimly, “It’s the trademark of a villain known as the Master.”

“The Master..” Sarah whispered to herself, remembering the name from stories her friends at UNIT had told her…and she felt fear begin to prickle at the back of her neck.

“Who is this ‘Master’?” Spandrell asked, the Doctor looked away from him, his eyes resting on Sarah for a moment. Sarah could read some strange sort of struggle in them…almost as if he were fighting with himself.

“He’s a fiend who glories in chaos and destruction.” The Doctor said finally, “A renegade Time Lord.”

Spandrell gasped, but there was a strange shock of recognition in his eyes…as though the Doctor’s words had sparked a memory in him.

“If the Master is here on Gallifrey it explains why I was brought here,” The Doctor was saying, “He must have set all this up for the final challenge…this is just a sort of greetings card.” he said, gesturing to the unfortunate figure in the camera.

Runcible began to stir, his eyes fluttering open.

“Are you all right, Runcible?” Spandrell asked.

“Y…Yes Castellan.” Runcible said, his voice trembling a little, he shuddered violently, “It was horrible…”

Sarah knelt beside the troubled newsreader and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, “We know, but you must try to be brave...”

“Did you manage to retrieve anything, Runcible?” Spandrell interrupted her.

“Just the last data track, Castellan.” Runcible replied, slowly getting to his feet.

“Well, don’t just stand there, man. Get it to the records section.”

“Yes…yes Castellan.” Runcible said and hurried down the stairs as quickly as his somewhat unsteady legs would take him. Sarah rounded on Spandrell irritably.

“That was cruel – he’s just had a very nasty shock.” Sarah said forcefully.

“It’s no excuse for lounging around. I will not tolerate all this chaos here on Gallifrey.” Spandrell turned to the Doctor, who was stood staring at nothing, lost in thought, “And I am warning you, Doctor, do not try and settle this private feud of yours here on Gallifrey.”

The Doctor’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing.

“Like it or not, Spandrell, it cannot be avoided. Gallifrey is involved…and I fear it may never be the same again.”

Before Spandrell could even open his mouth to reply, there was a cry of pain from the floor below. They all moved to peer down only to see Runcible stagger from the shadows and collapse…a knife plunged solidly into his back. Sarah drew back in horror. Spandrell, by contrast, seemed more furious than horrified.

“This is outrageous Doctor! First a guard, then the President and a camera technician…and now Runcible!” Spandrell ranted furiously.

“Flea bites, Spandrell,” The Doctor said gravely, “Mere flea bites.” His voice was quiet, but held an undeniable edge…an assurance of danger yet to come.

“Besides,” Sarah added, “If even half what I’ve heard of the Master is true, things will get a lot worse before the end.”

A shadow of a grin crossed the Doctor’s face, “It might even rouse some of the Time Lords from their lethargy,” He said, an echo of humour in his voice, “They live for centuries and have about as much sense of adventure as dormice.”

“I don’t find this very amusing, Doctor.” Spandrell almost growled.

“Neither do I, Spandrell,” The Doctor assured him, his eyes bleak, “Neither do I.”

 

#  _\---_

 

Coordinator Engin was a small man with a bent back and a surprisingly kindly face. Sarah smiled as soon as she saw him…he looked like somebody’s grandfather.

“Oh, hello again Castellan,” Engin greeted the still fuming Spandrell.

“Engin,” Spandrell nodded curtly, “This is the Doctor and his companion Miss Smith.”

Engin greeted them with as much warmth as they had received since arriving on Gallifrey. Sarah found herself liking him already.

“What can I do for you all?” Engin asked.

“We’d like you to do another scan of the records,” Spandrell said shortly, “This time searching for a Time Lord who calls himself ‘The Master’.”

“Of course, Castellan.” Engin said, shuffling over to a console and fiddling with the controls. After a few moments he turned back to them, a confused expression on his kindly old face. “I’m afraid I can’t find any Time Lord who goes by that title. Are you sure that is the name he goes by?”

The Doctor sank down onto one of the chairs, “I’m not surprised it isn’t there. Anyone with a little criminal know-how can erase a D-E.”

Engin looked at the Doctor in disbelief, “Doctor, you would need far more than simple criminal know-how…advanced exitonic circuitry of this kind…”

“Is child’s play to the Master,” He waved a hand at the computer banks around him dismissively, “There are planets out there where this kind of equipment would be considered prehistoric.”

Engin drew himself up, wounded and irritated by the Doctor’s dismissal of his life’s work and determined to defend his beloved records section, but Spandrell got there first.

“What’s the Master like with mathematics?” the Castellan asked hurriedly.

“What? Oh, he’s brilliant, absolutely brilliant…almost up to my standard.” The Doctor said almost absently, his gaze drifting over to his companion. Sarah grinned at him from where she had been stood examining a peculiar piece of equipment; it looked like a sort of medical bench with a sophisticated piece of computer equipment at one end, complete with some sort of electrodes that extended from an oddly shaped frame.

“What’s this?” She asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to deflect the increasing tension in the air.

“One of our prehistoric pieces of equipment, Miss Smith.” Engin said, throwing an acid glare at the Doctor. “It’s the A.P.C section.”

“A.P.C?” Sarah questioned.

“Advanced Panatropic Computations.” The Doctor supplied with a quick grin at Engin, “In effect, brain cells!”

Engin gave the Doctor a reproving eye for interrupting, “Trillions of electro-chemical cells in a continuous matrix. At the moment of death an electrical scan is made of their brain pattern and these millions of impulses are immediately transferred to the APC Net. Its function is to monitor life in the Capitol. All this combined knowledge and experience is used to predict future developments.” Engin finished.

“Predict future events?” Sarah said, almost amused, “Sounds like a fancy name for a crystal ball to me.”

“What about the assassination of the President?” The Doctor interrupted her.

“For some reason, that event was not foreseen.”

“Oh yes it was!” The Doctor said indignantly, “It was foreseen by me!” The Doctor started to pace, “Very clever, he’s really surpassed himself this time…” He muttered. Sarah sighed, she was used to these displays from the Doctor, after all. But she still found some amusement in the confused expressions on Spandrell and Engin’s faces.

“What are you talking about Doctor?” Spandrell demanded impatiently.

“Don’t you see? We Time Lords are telepathic. This...” He waved a hand at the APC console, “is simply a brain storage system. The Master must have intercepted its forecast that the President was to be assassinated and beamed it into my mind." He looked directly at Spandrell, “You said that my D-E had been scanned?”

“Yes. There was no mica dust.”

The Doctor grunted, "He'd need a biography print to beam a message accurately over that distance."

Spandrell remained unconvinced, “Why would he want you to know his plan?”

The Doctor shrugged, “I told you, he has old scores to settle.”

Engin was shaking his head, “Even if what you say is true, how can one intercept thought patterns within the Matrix itself.”

“Simple; by going in there and joining it. After all that’s all a brain is – electrical impulses.” The Doctor paused and mused to himself, “If I went in there myself I could track him down and destroy him…”

“I can’t allow that, Doctor.” Engin said firmly, “If you tried it the psychosomatic feedback could very well kill you.”

Sarah gripped the Doctor’s hand in sudden anxiety, fear in her eyes.

“It’s better than being vaporised.” The Doctor replied, looking down at Sarah a silent question written on his face. Sarah bit her lip and gave him a hesitant nod, knowing that there was very little choice left to them. “This is my only chance to prove my innocence.”

Engin exchanged a look with Spandrell, trying to determine if the younger Time Lord had also noticed the Doctor’s silent communication with his companion…but if Spandrell had noticed, he gave no sign.

“Let him try, Engin.” Spandrell said, “He has very little else left to lose.”

Engin sighed, “Very well. If you will lie down on the couch, Doctor.”

The Doctor did as he asked, laying his long frame out as Engin began applying the various electrodes to his head and body.

“Is this the procedure dying Time Lords go through?” Sarah asked, still gripping the Doctor’s cool hand in hers.

“Yes,” Engin said, “Though they are normally unconscious at the time…now Doctor, I will warn you that there may be some considerable pain involved…”

But with his eyes still fixed on Sarah’s face, the Doctor simply told the old Time Lord to get on with it. Engin hesitated then threw the switch.

The Doctor’s body arched as though he was being electrocuted and for a moment his body was bent like a bow…then he suddenly flopped back down and lay still. Sarah clutched at him, her eyes filled with fear.

“Well?” Spandrell asked. Engin inspected the dials carefully.

“Apparently it worked Castellan. Only his body remains here now, his mind is in the matrix.”

Sarah reached out to touch the Doctor’s face, trying to make it look like she was just casually moving a tangle of curly hair from his eyes. But that gesture proved to her that Engin wasn’t completely correct – she could still feel flickers of his quicksilver presence. Sarah smiled and settled down to wait.

 

\---

 

He lay on his back. He could feel the rough earth underneath him, smell the tang of the air, and hear the raucous calls of wild birds somewhere in the distance. All his physical senses told him this world was real…but he knew it wasn’t.

The stark landscape was dark and unnerving, the sky above him dull and overcast, hiding the sun from view. The dense jungle he lay in, from its towering trees to the tangle of undergrowth and the sluggish rivers were all a mish-mash of images drawn from a dozen worlds, making it look nothing other than uniquely alien. Not to mention off-putting. But that was probably the intent.

The Doctor stood up carefully, surveying his surroundings, then he heard a harsh, distorted voice boom from all around him.

“You were a fool to enter my domain, Doctor!” The strangely familiar voice rasped.

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed as he saw a shadow flicker across the edge of his vision. Then he heard the distinct crack of a dry twig breaking beneath a booted foot.

He knew one thing for certain now – he was being hunted.

A bullet whizzed past him, grazing his leg.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, the Doctor turned and fled.

 

Nothing here made any sense. It was a series of random, disconnected images drawn from nightmares. He had already faced an oncoming train and a poisoned water supply, as well as being strafed by an old military airplane, and so far all he had gained was an injured leg and right arm…as well as numerous other scrapes and bruises. This was definitely not working out as planned. The Master was much, much deeper entrenched here than he had imagined.

The Doctor sat alone, under the thick canopy of alien flora, his ears constantly alert for danger as he attempted to bandage his wounds, muttering to himself as he worked.

This world wasn’t real. It was no more than a psychic projection. An illusion. He closed his eyes, attempting to deny the reality that his physical senses told him was real, trying to impose his own will on the mental landscape.

For a second it seemed to be working… his wounds closed…and instead of the trees and sky, he could see the complex bio-electric circuits of the Panatropic matrix…

Then something blocked him violently, arrowing the force of his mental probe back at him. The Doctor flinched as he felt the sting, realising that he would just have to confront the shadowy figure he had seen drifting quietly through this landscape.

With his wounds dressed as well as he could hope for here, he moved to stand, and felt something brush against his boot. Bending down, he picked up a small bottle containing a viscous green substance. The Doctor took a cautious sniff of the contents, realising it was the same poison that had been used on the water earlier. He smiled as he thought of a use for it.

“Maybe I can get my shadowy friend to lead me to fresh water after all…”

 

From his perch in a crooked tree-branch, the Doctor waited and watched, hoping his opportunity would come soon. The crude blowpipe he had fashioned from a nearby bamboo lay in his hands, the poisoned thorn that was its ammunition waiting in the hollowed-out tube. A tiny crunch of breaking vegetation alerted the Doctor’s sharp ears to his approaching enemy. He raised the improvised weapon to his lips, his movements slow and noiseless as he waited for his target to come into plain sight.

Finally, his stalker appeared, almost staggering into the tiny clearing between the trees. The Doctor smiled grimly and blew out. The thorn flew straight and true towards it’s target, imbedding itself in the Stalker’s leg.

The sounds of pain and thrashing were moderately gratifying, but the Doctor had no time to appreciate his own cleverness as he quickly slipped down out of the tree, using the sounds of his assailant’s movements to cover his escape. Then he settled down to wait, smiling slowly as the Master’s minion moved past his hiding place.

His blue eyes watching with all the intensity of a hunting falcon, the Doctor tracked the Stalker’s awkward, limping run towards a pool of dark, brackish water.

It stood to reason that his shadowy foe had to be expending an awful lot of energy simply to maintain this projection…which in a way gave the Doctor a slight advantage. He closed his eyes for a second, reaching out beyond the Panatropic Matrix to feel the soft warmth that lay beyond his own mind. Reassured that his treasured companion was still there for him, knowing her strength was all he needed. Despite the constant pain in his leg, the Doctor tensed like a coiled spring, and then leapt…

 

\---

 

Engin and Spandrell watched the physiological readout alter as a massive blood-sugar demand became evident.

“It’s like he’s fighting a duel in there…” Engin whispered.

“His life signs are barely registering!” Spandrell exclaimed. Engin sighed sadly.

“I tried to warn him…the psychic shock involved…”

Sarah wordlessly willed her Doctor on, not listening to either of them. She summoned up all those memories she had preserved lovingly in her mind, the sound of his voice, then gentle touch of his cool skin, the feeling of his lips against hers…

‘I love you, Doctor,’ She told him silently, ‘I know you wont give up.’

“Wait!” Spandrell said then, “His readings are going back up again!”

“He must have an unusually high level of Artron energy.” Engin said. But something in the Coordinator’s voice sounded unconvinced, and his wise old eyes lingered on where Sarah’s hand still gripped the Doctor’s.

“What is going on in there?” Spandrell demanded, peering at the console.

“I don’t know, Castellan.” Engin said wearily, “But whatever it is, to the Doctor it is completely and utterly real.” His dark eyes travelled once again to Sarah, not wanting to state the obvious addendum to that statement – that it was certainly real enough to kill him if he failed.

Sarah gripped the Doctor’s hand even tighter, knowing that all she could do was keep repeating her silent exhortations for him to keep fighting and not give up.

 

Sarah looked up from the Doctor’s face when she heard another person enter the room. The one was dressed as a guard, his red and white livery immaculate in every way. Spandrell looked at the newcomer in some surprise.

“Solin? What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, Castellan,” Solin replied, “But Chancellor Goth ordered me to maintain a guard on the Doctor.”

The Castellan looked mildly irritated at this not-so-subtle inference that he couldn’t do his job, but waved a hand dismissively.

“Oh, very well. But don’t touch anything. This is delicate equipment.” Spandrell said briefly before turning his attention back to the readout. Sarah, however, kept half an eye on the guard. There was…something about him that raised the hackles on Sarah’s neck. Something about his eyes or his body language that felt…funny. But he stood by the door, almost motionless for almost fifteen minutes before he so much as moved.

Sarah had almost begun to relax her guard when he did move…straight towards the A.P.C controls.

“Don’t touch that!” Engin yelled, slapping the guard’s hand away, “If you disconnect him too soon, you could kill him!”

But Solin moved like a man possessed. He almost threw old Engin out of the way, reaching towards the disconnect controls.

“No!” Sarah screamed, diving at Solin in a completely unexpected flying tackle. They both went down in a heap. The jolt of connecting with the floor stunned Sarah momentarily, but even as she tried to get to her feet, she saw the blinding white flash of a staser bolt, and watched in numb shock as Solin fell limply to the floor.

Spandrell and Engin looked at her, but Sarah didn’t day a word, she merely stood shakily and resumed her place next the Doctor, holding his limp hand in hers, meeting the surprised gazes of the two time Lords firmly.

 

\---

 

The cold, dark, murky water around him enclosed him in its grip. He thrashed desperately, seeking escape, trying to get a breath of air. But his arms felt like dead weights, his legs were stiff and sore. He was exhausted, his mental energy almost spent…but he could feel the same weariness in his opponent, his strength was just as spent.

The Doctor opened his eyes underwater and drew on the last reserve he had, the deepest source of his strength, something he knew his opponent couldn’t possibly have, and he powered upwards with a massive uppercut which connected solidly with his stalkers jaw and sent him stumbling back into the dingy water half-conscious, his mask floating away on the slow current.

The Doctor’s eyes widened as he saw the bruised and battered visage. It was a deep shock to see that usually perfect, haughty face marred by injuries.

“Chancellor Goth?” He gasped.

The landscape around them seemed to ripple like heat waves rising from a hot rock, and a sinister, rasping voice hissed in their ears.

“Imbecile! I see that I must do everything myself.”

“No…Master…” Goth protested feebly, struggling to rise.

The Doctor rose to his feet, only realising what was going on when the harsh alien environment began to dissolve before his eyes.

“No…” He whispered, “He’s trying to trap us both in here…!”

The Doctor closed his eyes, reaching with all his strength and energy towards the twisting golden cord that was wrapped strongly around his own essence, using it as a guide, a beacon…a candle in the window to welcome him home.

 

Sparks fizzed a burst alarmingly from the APC console as Engin tried desperately to stablise the power overload.

“What’s happening?” Sarah cried, her voice agitated and her eyes filled with pure terror.

“Someone has overloaded the data bank…the whole system is experiencing meltdown,” Spandrell said, trying to avoid the sparks that were still being spat from the console, “If the Doctor doesn’t escape soon, he may be trapped inside.”

“But why?” Sarah yelled, “Who’s doing this?” Her eyes searching Spandrel and Engin’s faces for answers, while her hand still absently gripped the Doctor.

“It was Chancellor Goth.” A voice said croakily from the table. Sarah’s head snapped around.

“Doctor!” She cried in unashamed delight, hugging him impulsively. The Doctor sat up with some difficulty, tiredness plain in his bright blue eyes. Sarah kept her hold in him, refusing to relinquish her grip.

“Chancellor Goth?” Spandrell gasped in disbelief, “I don’t believe it…” Sarah nodded, completely unsurprised.

The Doctor got up, his attention now turned to Engin.

“Engin, what’s under here, hmm?” He asked, patting the APC console. The bent old engineer looked startled for a moment, but answered with confidence.

“Just a few service vents…and the Vaults, of course.”

“Vaults?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, they date back to the Old Time – haven’t been used in centuries.”

“That’s where they’ll be.” The Doctor said, whirling around and striding purposefully towards the door.

“Goth?” Spandrell asked, confused.

“And if we’re lucky, his employer – come along Sarah!” The Doctor called back as he walked out. Sarah shrugged gamely and jogged after him.

The two Time Lords looked at each other helplessly and hurried after them.

 

The dust down in the Ancient Vaults was at least two inches thick, and obviously hadn’t been disturbed in centuries.

Sarah pinched her nose to hold back a sneeze, glaring reproachfully at the thick layer of dust beneath her feet.

“How can he been down here, Doctor? No one’s been down here for a very long time.”

“Hmm…” The Doctor said non-committally his eyes intent on the dark hallway in front of them. Suddenly, he stopped and held up a hand for silence. He crept forwards, his steps making virtually no noise. Sarah held her breath as she moved after him, trying to copy his noiseless, creeping movements. Finally, she reached a dimly-lit alcove, and had to cover her mouth to prevent a scream.

A skeletal figure sat motionless in a chair. Its bulging eyes were fixed sightlessly on the far wall. Scabbed, partially decomposed skin hung from what remained of its hands. Even the black cloak seemed to be almost rotting of the body.

“Is it…dead?” Sarah asked fearfully, lowering her hand. The Doctor didn’t get chance to reply as a violent cough interrupted him.

The alcove contained a miniature version of the APC console. Its components had a jury-rigged look…and it was sparking and blinking erratically. Laying on the tiny cot attached to the console, his formerly regal robes tattered and dirty, was Chancellor Goth.

“Looks as though…you…won…Doctor…” Goth gasped, flecks of blood gathering at the corners of his mouth.

“Why do it, Goth? Hmm?” The Doctor demanded, “You were going to be the next President…”

“No…” Goth interrupted, “The…the President said…I’d never be…I’d never…succeed him…” Goth’s gaze wandered to the emaciated body of the Master sat rigid in the chair. “I…met him on…Tersurus…” Goth continued, “He was…at the end of his regeneration cycle…he promised…promised me…power if I could…take him to Gallifrey.” Goth took another tortured breath, and Sarah heard Spandrell and Engin come up behind her to listen. Goth’s voice was becoming fainter and fainter, “I…I brought him…here…but I couldn’t resist…his mind…his…dominance…I…couldn’t…”

“What were his plans, Goth?” The Doctor said with an almost frightening intensity in his voice, he took hold of the dying Time Lord’s shoulders. Goth stared blankly for a moment, and there was a horrific gurgle from Goth’s lungs…then he went still.

“Typical politician,” The Doctor said, a trace of bitterness in his tone, “Can never give a straight answer to a straight question…”

Sarah moved forward and placed a comforting hand on the Doctor’s arm. Distracted as he was, he still took hold of her hand and held it tight.

This time, she was almost sure she heard the unspoken words that flicked into her mind.

‘Don’t let go.’

 

\---

 

Cardinal Borusa had not changed since the Doctor had been at the Academy. He was still just as rigid, and just as set on plodding down the well-worn paths of Time Lord preconceptions. The Doctor almost smiled – It seemed not even a regeneration could change Borusa’s mind about some things.

“The story you have told me is simply not acceptable.” Borusa said, his thin hands clutching at the sides of his ornate desk chair.

“We’re only telling you what happened.” Sarah protested, eyes wide with indignation. Borusa looked at her

“That may be, but I cannot announce that one of the candidates to the Presidency – a well respected Chancellor, was in league with a despicable creature like the Master.”

Spandrell nodded sagely, understanding. Engin looked nonplussed…and Sarah was almost spluttering with indignation.

“So, you’re going to lie to people? Is that it?” The disgust in Sarah’s voice was palpable. She had seen this practice on her own world – politicians desperate to keep their status quo intact would bend and twist things until they came out the way they wanted to.

“Miss Smith, sometimes in order to maintain the public confidence and prevent scandal, it is necessary to…adjust the truth.”

“We Time Lords have a vital role in protecting the balance of space/time in the universe,” Spandrell interjected, “We cannot be distracted from that by a public scandal.”

The Doctor snorted in amusement…vital role indeed…

“A much more acceptable story would be that the Master assassinated the President. Goth discovered this and tracked him down and killed him before dying himself. Yes, much more acceptable.” Borusa looked up, “Spandrell, see that is the story delivered to all the information services.”

“Yes sir.” Spandrell saluted and walked out.

“You’re going to turn Goth into a hero.” Sarah murmured quietly, shaking her head. She was a journalist, and knew full well how manipulating the news could shape opinions.

“Well, Borusa, now all this nasty business has been cleared up, am I free to go?” The Doctor asked, stepping forward.

“Of course, Doctor, as soon as you have assisted Coordinator Engin in compiling a new bio-data profile for the Master.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. For a moment there, she had hoped she could finally go home…back to the TARDIS.

 

“Only in mathematics will we find truth.” The Doctor quoted suddenly as he and Sarah followed Engin back to the records section.

“What?” Sarah asked, puzzled.

“Oh, Borusa used to say that all the time when I was in the Academy. Now it looks like he’s setting out to prove it.”

The Doctor flung himself into a chair near the door, while Engin bustled about, setting up a blank bio-data solid for the Master’s new profile.

“Now, Doctor,” Engin began, “Can you describe the Master’s personality for me?”

“Bad.” The Doctor replied. Sarah fought down a laugh as Engin looked mildly exasperated.

“Can’t you be a little more specific?” Engin asked, but the Doctor didn’t seem to hear him. Sarah bent down next to him, recognising the distant, thoughtful look on his face – something was bothering him, a little niggle he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“Doctor?” She asked, “What’s got you in a tizzy”

“Hmm…I was just thinking why The Master would need to control the President. After all, he’s just an elected official who presides over the council…”

“He also holds the Relics from the Old Time, Doctor.” Engin pointed out.

“Relics?” Sarah asked.

“The Sash of Rassilon and the Great Key…”

“Ah!” The Doctor exclaimed with a brilliant grin.

“What is it, Doctor?” She asked, though knowing full well he had been hit by one of those sudden flashes of lightning inspiration.

“I can feel my hair curling,” He grinned, “And that means either it’s going to rain, or I’m on to something.” With a quick motion, he was out of his chair, peering over Engin’s console.

“Who was Rassilon anyway?” Sarah asked, more to distract Engin from the Doctor’s antics than anything else.

“Rassilon was the Founder of modern Time Lord civilisation. He created the Eye of Harmony, where our power to Time Travel comes from…”

“In his own time he was known mainly as an Architect and Engineer.” The Doctor put in, looking up briefly.

Engin went to another console, “I have a modern transgram of the Book of the Old Time here if you would care to hear it.”

Sarah and the Doctor both nodded. The Doctor wanted to refresh his memory, hoping the book might provide him with a few clues. Sarah was simply fascinated to hear more about the mysterious past of her beloved’s people.

A soft, female voice began to filter through the speakers.

"And Rassilon journeyed into the black void with a great fleet. Within the void no light would shine and nothing of that outer nature continue in being except that which existed within the Sash of Rassilon. Now Rassilon found the Eye of Harmony, which balances all things that they may neither flux nor wither nor change their state in any measure; and he caused the Eye to be brought to the world of Gallifrey, wherein he sealed this beneficence with the Great Key. Then the people rejoiced."

“Neither flux…nor wither nor change their state…” The Doctor muttered, “Of course! A black hole!”

“Doctor, what are you talking about?” Sarah asked impatiently.

“Don’t you see Sarah? Rassilon took a black hole and stabilised it so it wouldn’t flux or change. The Master wanted to use that power to give himself a new regeneration cycle!”

The Doctor’s excited explanation was interrupted when a uniformed guard walked in carrying a small object.

“Excuse me, sir,” The guard said politely to the Doctor, “But we found this near where the Master’s body was, and Castellan Spandrell said we should show it to you.” He held out the object, which turned out to be a small syringe. The Doctor broke it open and cautiously sniffed at its contents.

“Tricophenylaldehyde,” The Doctor identified it with a worried frown, “A neural inhibitor…”

“But, does that mean..?” Sarah asked warily. The Doctor nodded slowly.

“The Master isn’t dead.”

 

\---

 

Corridors flashed by Sarah’s eyes and she pelted at full tilt through the Gallifreyan capital, trying to keep up with the Doctor’s longer stride. Startled guards and unfailingly ancient-looking Time Lords jumped out of their way as they flew past.

At last, the Doctor slowed, almost skidding to a stop. Engin and Spandrell narrowly avoiding crashing into Sarah and the Doctor as they stopped outside the entrance to the morgue.

The place was dark, and eerily quiet. The Doctor crept forwards, his eyes and ears alert. Spandrell followed him, peering into the cold, darkened room. It wasn’t long before they spotted something.

“Hildred!” Spandrell gasped in horror. The Doctor turned and saw the tiny figurine dressed in guards’ livery lying at Spandrell’s feet.

“We’re too late…” The Doctor said as he cast his eyes over the other bodies in the room, trying to find the President’s. Trying to see if there was still…

“Yes, Doctor,” A harsh, rasping voice hissed quite suddenly, “You are all far too late.”

Spandrell and the Doctor both span around to face the entrance.

“Sarah!” The Doctor gasped. The decaying figure of the Master stood in the doorway; one skeletal hand clutching at Sarah’s arm while the other held a staser trained on her.

“I know of your foolish affection for these humans, Doctor,” The Master rasped, “So I know it is unlikely you would do anything to harm her, so I suggest you stay where you are.”

The Doctor froze, his face a mask of mingled fury and concern. Spandrell, however, ignored that directive, and dove at the creature that had been attacking his home world.

“Spandrell, don’t!” The Doctor cried. Too late, the Master’s hand whipped out and shot him down.

The Doctor’s gaze travelled up from Spandrell’s limp body to Sarah’s face. Sarah trembled, her teeth clenched together to prevent them chattering, but her eyes were determined, unafraid. He wished he could take her hand, protect her, and keep her safe…

But that wasn’t an option just now, and she was strong, stronger than anyone else could ever know.

“What is it you want?” Engin demanded, sounding shaken.

“I want you to go to the President’s body and retrieve the Sash of Rassilon, old man – and no tricks from either of you, or the girl dies.”

“Don’t do it, Engin!” Sarah yelled at him. She knew, somehow, that they simply couldn’t let The Master get hold of that Sash. It was an ancient and powerful technology, and Sarah had seen through past experience that letting an evil being like The Master control it would be a very bad idea.

Engin, however, had grown up on Gallifrey, had seen the Sash worn on countless ceremonial occasions but had never associated it with any practical use – to him, it was simply a pretty bauble. A symbol of the presidency with no more use than a human King’s crown. Engin hobbled over to the Presidents body and unclipped the golden Sash.

The Doctor reigned in his fury with a considerable effort, torn between the desire to protect his world, and the desire to protect Sarah. The only thing he could do was reach out briefly to touch Sarah’s mind, project some reassurance as he watched the grandfatherly old Time Lord hobble over and hand over the Sash.

“This won’t work,” The Doctor said, “You’ll release a force you cannot possibly control or contain.”

“I am quite aware of that, Doctor,” The Master replied, the fixed, skeletal grin giving him a horribly pleased look. “That is why I cannot allow you to interfere.” Again, the staser moved, drilling the Doctor with a bright point of light before anyone in the room could move.

“Doctor!” Sarah screamed, trying to tear away from the monster that held her securely in its vice-like fingers.

“Oh, no, my dear. You are not going anywhere, except with me.” He pointed at Engin, who stood frozen, his lined face numb with shock. “You are to stay there, and you try to follow me, I’ll kill this fair rose.” With a gurgling chuckle, the Master tugged on Sarah’s arm. Struggling all the way, Sarah was pulled out into the corridor.

 

Sarah watched with outright disgust as he sealed the doors, her skin cringed away from where the decaying fingers clutched her bare forearm, her face twisted in revulsion, not only at the physical appearance of the thing before her, but at the sort of mind that could be capable of the horrors he had perpetrated.

He had kept them moving quickly, down musty, unused corridors that were covered in dust and cobwebs. On the occasions where they did encounter someone, the Master had no problems with shooting them immediately, reducing their bodies to the size of children’s dolls. Their screams still echoed over and over in Sarah’s ears.

The maze-like nature of the place was enough to send Sarah dizzy, but he seemed to know exactly where they were, until at last they arrived outside the great Panopticon hall. The place was just as silent and cold as it had been when Sarah visited it earlier, but now there was a peculiar sense of foreboding in the air, and the feeling raised goose bumps on Sarah’s skin. She felt nausea rise in her stomach again as she caught another look at the decomposed face of her captor. The only thing that kept her from terrified paralysis was her knowledge that, despite what the Master obviously wanted her to think, the Doctor was still alive. She could feel the tiny little pulses of his warm presence along their link. She drew on that, used it to calm herself as she closed her eyes, forcing the terror and nausea away.

The Master chuckled again, a horrible gurgling sound like something drowning.

“I see that you aren’t too fond of me.” He said, moving in front of her. Sarah opened her eyes, and glared at him, defiance and rage written clearly in her eyes. The Master merely laughed, “I’m sure I can change that…”

Something in the Master’s gaze altered slightly. His voice changed from the harsh rasp, to a gentler, almost sonorous tone.

“Listen to my voice, child, I am the only thing you can hear…the only voice that matters….” Sarah frowned as she felt something flutter at the outer edges of her mind. It flickered like birds wings for a moment…a voice trying to gain her attention. But it wasn’t loud enough. It simply seemed to lack the power it needed to force her to obey.

“I am The Master, and you will obey me!” The Master roared, frustration in his voice. It was impossible! No human should be able to resist his superior will!

Sarah scowled at him, her eyes clear and unclouded by the attempted hypnotism.

“I will never obey you.” She hissed back.

 

The ringing in his ears was beginning to get quite annoying. Shame really, as he was having such a nice dream. He and Sarah were sat on a beach in the Maldives, drinking Mai Tais and…

Sarah?

Yes, something about Sarah…she was in trouble. And that ringing wasn’t ringing; it was a voice, calling his name…

“Doctor? Can you hear me?”

The Doctor opened his eyes and sat bolt upright. His brain jump-starting instantly.

“Sarah!” He cried, scrambling to his feet.

“The Master has her.” Engin informed him, sympathy written in his wise old eyes.

“And we’re sealed in.” Spandrell added. The Doctor looked around, checking all the doors.

“What’s going on here, Doctor?” Spandrell asked, “What exactly is the Master up to?”

“He’s trying to gain access to they Eye of Harmony, so he can gain a new regeneration cycle.” The Doctor replied absently as he examined a small blocked-off service shaft.

“But that’s impossible! If anyone tried to access the Eye they’d simply be sucked into the black hole!” Spandrell protested.

“Not if they were wearing the Sash. It’s a shield, a technological masterpiece that prevents its wearer from being sucked into the nucleus of the Eye. But if the Master succeeds in what he’s attempting…”

Engin’s face drained of colour, “If he succeeds in destabilising the Eternal Dynamic Equation…then Gallifrey…” He stopped, the horror of the concept overwhelming him.

“Then Gallifrey, and a hundred other worlds in this sector, would all be destroyed.” The Doctor said, whirling on Spandrell angrily, “And none of this would have happened if you has listened to me in the first place…now Sarah is in terrible danger.”

A minor earthquake suddenly wracked the whole room. It shuddered through the floor and walls, raining plaster and dust down from the ceiling and knocking loose the boards that blocked the service shaft. Spandrell looked at the Doctor in disbelief as he clutched at a column for support.

“Our entire world is about to end, and you’re most worried about that girl.”

The Doctor moved to the service shaft and pulled the last obstructions out of the way before turning to glare at Spandrell. The look in the Doctor’s bright blue eyes was like none he’d even seen before; it was enough to send chills down the Castellan’s spine.

“Listen to me, Spandrell,” The Doctor said in a quiet, deadly voice, “Until Sarah is safe, the rest of Gallifrey can burn for all I care.”

Spandrell stepped back as the Doctor disappeared up the tiny shaft, feeling troubled and confused.

“Good luck, Doctor.” Engin said quietly.

 

\---

 

His shoulders and elbows were screaming with protest, and the tips of his fingers had gone white from the constant pressure he was putting on them. Most of the upper portion of his body had gone numb with fatigue…but he didn’t give up.

The service shaft that led up to the Panopticon was narrow and steep – barely big enough to fit into, let alone crawl up, but the Doctor did it anyway, driven by concern for his companion, for the person he privately though of as ‘My Sarah’.

The harsh sound of his breathing seemed almost to thunder in his ears as it echoed off the narrow shaft, a sharp counterpoint to the almost erratic beat of his hearts.

Stones and dust fell almost continually, more being dislodged each time the walls trembled. The aftershocks of what the Master was doing threatening to shake the whole building apart. He had meant what he said to Spandrell, though. Sarah’s rescue had to come first – before defeating the Master or saving his home world.

He sneezed at the dust settling on his clothes and hair, then adjusted his grip and resolutely carried on climbing.

They should have listened to him in the first place.

 

It was a great relief when the shaft finally opened out into the darkened halls of the Panopticon. The floor trembled and bucked almost continually now, an ominous accompaniment to the hollow booming noise emanating from the centre of the hall.

The Doctor stretched out his cramped muscles, his eyes scanning the hall. Sarah was there, at the opposite side, her back pushed against the far wall, but her eyes watched only the Master as though she was waiting for an opportunity to make her escape.

He smiled, he’d give her the distraction she needed. They could do this together.

The Master was crouched on the floor, watching with his dead, decomposing eyes as a black monolith rose slowly from the chasm – the entrance to the Eye of Harmony.

“Yessss.” The Master hissed with dark pleasure. The Golden sash around his neck glinting in the dim light, looked totally out of place against his ancient, rotting robes.

“No.” The Doctor said, stepping out from the shadows. “You don’t know what you’re about to release. You cannot possibly control the Eye. No one can.”

“Ah, Doctor,” The Master cackled, twisting to point his TCE at the Doctor, “I wondered when you would be showing up to save the day. But this time you are wrong. Rassilon could control this power, and I have all of Rassilon’s tools. The sash will protect me as it protected him.”

“No it won’t,” The Doctor contradicted, risking a single glance at Sarah as he did so. Sarah gave a barely perceptible nod, “The Sash was damaged during the assassination – it won’t protect you.”

“You’re lying, Doctor.” The Master retorted, but his tone was far from certain. The Doctor readied himself, coiling like a spring as the Master’s eyes drifted momentarily downwards…

Sarah sprang at the Master, wresting away the TCE with a single sharp, violent gesture even as the Doctor leapt towards to monolith, trying to twist and remove the key from the depression, fighting against the shuddering of the floor and the showers of dust and debris.

“No!” The Master shrieked, flinging Sarah aside with unnatural strength and charging towards the dais where the Doctor and the towering black column stood. But he moved too late as the Doctor pulled the key free, sending the monolith shuddering back down into the ground again. With a bellow of rage, the Master dove at the Doctor, trying to tear the key from his grip. The Doctor backed away, coming dangerously close to the edge of the chasm left behind by the monolith, trying to hold the key out of the Master’s reach.

Sarah, seeing the danger, ran up behind the Master. Grabbing hold of a handful of his rotting black robes, she threw with all her strength, sending the Master tumbling into the yawning abyss.

There was a scream, which quickly died away into an unimaginable silence as gravity pulled him into the darkness. The Master’s form vanished so quickly from sight that it was hard to believe it had really happened.

When the tremors finally subsided, Sarah sat down heavily on the cold stone floor, feeling shaky and a little bit nauseous as the adrenaline drained its way out of her body. She closed her eyes, trying to trap the tears she felt gathering behind her eyes. A pair of arms wrapped around her, and the wonderfully comforting, familiar voice of her best friend and beloved whispered in her ear.

“Shhh, Sarah.” The Doctor said softly.

“I…I...killed him.” Sarah choked, feeling the first tear slip down her cheek.

“No,” The Doctor whispered back, “No, he’s been dead for a long time. Besides, there was an awful lot of power coming from that monolith, and the sash would have helped him convert it.”

Sarah looked up quickly, “So it’s possible he could still be alive?”

“He’s always been very resourceful…and very difficult to get rid of.” He replied, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Come on, Sarah, time to go.”

 

\---

 

Borusa paced up and down in his lavish office his face as dark as a thundercloud.

“This is absurd,” The Cardinal burst out, “What am I supposed to tell the people? I cannot have everyone believing that any lunatic can go and disrupt the Eye whenever they feel like it!”

The Doctor, lounged comfortably in one of the elaborate padded chairs, grinned broadly, “Well, you’ll just have to adjust the truth again, Cardinal,” He said, his grin becoming, if possible, even wider, “How about subsidence owing to a plague of giant mice, hmm?”

Borusa bridled visibly, “Your taste for inappropriate humour will get you into trouble, Doctor.” Borusa snapped. The Doctor’s grin vanished, though a spark of humour remained in his bright blue eyes as he reverted a peculiarly reverent attitude, like a schoolboy reprimanded by his teacher.

“Yes sir,” The Doctor said politely, “You’ve said that many times before. May I go, sir?”

Sarah fought back a laugh as she watched Borusa’s expression soften into what was almost a smile.

“Yes, Doctor…and… nine out of ten.” Borusa said with a faint smile, sharing an old joke.

“Thank you, sir.” The Doctor said, standing up to leave. Sarah also stood, moving towards the door. She was looking forward to a hot bath and a proper meal, and was eager to return to the TARDIS.

“There is one other thing I wished to discuss with you, Doctor.” Borusa interrupted before they could leave. The Doctor sighed and handed Sarah the TARDIS key.

“Go wait in the TARDIS for me, Sarah,” he said, “This shouldn’t take too long.”

Sarah smiled and took the key, allowing her hands to linger on his perhaps a little too long, but the smile she got from him was more than worth it she thought as she swept out of the room.

“I didn’t quite believe Engin when he revealed his observations to me,” Borusa said softly, his eyes on the place where Sarah had just occupied, “But now I see what he meant. It really is quite inappropriate you know.”

“Oh, now what are you on about, Borusa?” The Doctor said, growing impatient.

“She will never be accepted here, Doctor.” Borusa said with stark finality. The Doctor just smiled.

“You know, that’s what I like about you, Borusa. You see everything in black and white. Must be nice, eh? Everything clean cut and in its place.”

“If you would please get to the point, Doctor,” Borusa interrupted testily, “Your habit of verbal meandering is very frustrating.”

“The point, my dear Cardinal, is that the Universe isn’t black and white. It’s all presented in marvellous Technicolor…and Sarah is the brightest, most colourful part of all. After all, a universe without colour would be a very dull place.”

Borusa narrowed his eyes in thought, and the Doctor fancied he could hear the pieces clicking into place in the Cardinal’s head. Borusa’s face suddenly took on a stunned expression, his eyes widening in shock.

“You…linked…with her?” Borusa gasped. The Doctor’s answering grin said everything, as well as having the added effect of absolutely infuriating the Cardinal. “That’s unheard of! You can’t just link yourself to a…a primitive!”

“Sarah is no primitive.” The Doctor said, his grin vanishing and a slight edge coming into his voice. But Borusa clearly wasn’t listening.

“If the rest of the council find out…”

“They’ll what, Borusa? Exile me? Strip me of my rights and privileges?” The Doctor said harshly, sarcastically. The sentiment behind those words was impossible to miss. Borusa took a deep breath as the Doctor turned around to leave.

“You don’t intend to return, do you?” Borusa asked quietly.

The Doctor stopped and turned, an indefinable emotion sparkling in his eyes.

“No.” He replied bluntly.

“Theta Sigma!!”

The Doctor span around angrily.

“Don’t call me that! I gave up the right to that name many years ago. It isn’t me anymore.”

And without saying another word, the Doctor left Borusa’s office. The door banging shut behind him with a sound of finality.

 

_\---_

 

The TARDIS key shone brightly as Sarah turned it over and over in her hands, watching the still flickering lights from inside the museum glint off its surface. She gazed absently at the outside of the TARDIS, still perpetually stuck in the form of a blue Police box.

A universe without colour, he had said. She brought him colour and light. How could that possibly be true when he was the brightest, most colourful person she had ever met?

Borusa - he had spoken with such arrogance. They were so confident, so assured of their own superiority, so cold, he hadn’t even considered if she even wanted to be accepted here, because it was obvious the Doctor wasn’t.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of the Doctor’s familiar stride. She smiled warmly as he reached her side, taking the key gently from her fingers and unlocking the door. Inviting her to step inside with a single gesture...but as she looked up at him, she saw his blue eyes twinkling with mischief and…

Desire.

All thoughts of that overheard conversation fled her mind as she stepped quickly into the TARDIS. She tried to even out her breathing as she heard the doors close behind her.

His hands, gentle beyond belief, relived her of her jacket and stuck it absently on a peg. He smiled at her as his hands returned to her shoulders, his fingers whispered just above the cloth of her blouse, not quite making contact…but even though he never quite touched her, she felt a thrill run through her shoulders and down her back, a delicious warmth that seemed to follow the silent ghosting of his long fingers. It called to mind a long ago incident at school, when she had touched a Van de Graf generator and felt the tingle of electricity through her body…but it was his softly spoken words that produced the greatest reaction.

“So,” He said with affectionate amusement, “I look ‘dishy’ do I?”

Sarah felt heat climb her face, and knew she must be blushing like a ripe tomato. The Doctor laughed quietly, his breath brushing against her ear.

“Hmm, I’ll have to remember to wear this outfit more often.” He mused as his fingers once again took up that marvellous dance over her body, still not quite touching, but still sending those little shivers of pleasure through every part of skin they passed over.

Sarah closed her eyes, just revelling in it. She didn’t know how he was doing this, what special Time Lord wizardry he was using to produce this reaction; and frankly, she didn’t care…it just felt too good.

“There are so many things I want to show you, Sarah.” He said, his demeanour serious now, “All my favourite places in the Universe…you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to share all this with.”

She opened her slightly dazed eyes to look up at him. His gaze was intent, filled with desire and…love.

“Doctor…” She whispered, reaching out with one hand to gently touch his face. He smiled at her, then with a sudden, smooth movement, he swept her neatly off her feet and carried her out of the console room. Sarah laughed from sheer delight. The slightly melodramatic romance of it had taken her by surprise.

“Why Doctor,” She said teasingly, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He chuckled gently, “There are many things I would do for you.” He said as they reached the door to his room. Sarah felt a tiny flicker of apprehension. She had never been inside his room. It was the one place in the TARDIS she had always considered inviolate…but things were different now…he had brought her here because he wanted to share himself with her as he had with no one else…Sarah felt honoured beyond words.

He set her down to open the door, his eyes still sparkling with that intoxicating mixture of love and desire. The door swung open, and Sarah peered eagerly inside.

It was a large room, larger than her own. The walls were a soft red colour, the furniture all appeared to be very old, dark wood, much of it scratched and slightly battered from use and age.

She stepped cautiously into the room, taking it all in one bit at a time. There were shelves everywhere, covered in nick-nacks and souvenirs from probably hundreds of different planets, but she recognised several of the items came from Earth.

She almost laughed when she saw the clock above the dresser – A Dalek eyestalk formed the hour hand…it was so very outrageous. But somehow, in this room, it fit.

Then her eyes were drawn to one of the walls – it was almost totally covered in photographs and small portraits. Some of the people in the photos she recognised – Liz Shaw and Jo Grant were there, looking much as they did in their official UNIT profiles. Sarah realised that all these people must have travelled with the Doctor. Here was a picture of a beautiful girl with an oddly elfin face, there a young man in traditional Scottish kilt…and so many others. Many of them young and female…

But the most prominent picture on the wall, even if it wasn’t the biggest, was one of her. She had no idea where he could have gotten it from – it was an old photo, taken not long after she had left college. She looked at it for a moment, not realising that the Doctor had softly come up behind her until he spoke.

“My Sarah,” He said gently, his deep voice seemed to echo through her body, soothing her. He dipped his head to the crook of her shoulder, kissing her neck. Sarah felt a delicious shiver run through her body as his lips touched that sensitive spot just under her ear. She closed her eyes, knowing that though she had seen the Doctor’s past as she looked at the faces of his companions; it was she, Sarah Jane Smith, who was in his future.

“Ah…” She gasped as The Doctor’s kissing turned to nibbling, sending a flash of heat through every nerve in her body. She opened her eyes, turning around so she could see the desire and mischief in his brilliant blue eyes as he led her over to the huge four-poster bed that sat in one corner of the room. Then he stopped, looking at her with a now-serious expression.

“Is this what you want, Sarah?” He asked, his eyes almost begging her to say ‘yes’. She smiled, flattered as always by his consideration. None of the other men she had been out with had even bothered to ask…they had just assumed. And they had been wrong.

“Of course,” She smiled, reaching out to take hold of the back of his neck so she could bring him in for a deep kiss.

The kiss went on for some time as they both fiddling with each other’s clothing, exploring each other’s mouths, their tongues duelling in and endlessly erotic dance while their fingers sought to touch skin.

“Mmmm…” The Doctor murmured in frustration, pulling back slightly. His usually amazingly nimble fingers were having trouble with the particularly awkward button on the top of Sarah’s jeans. Sarah laughed softly – he had had no trouble with the buttons on her blouse, which now hung off her shoulders, but this single button had defeated him.

“I don’t find this very funny,” He said.

“Well, I do,” She giggled, “The man who defeated Wirrn, Cybermen and Daleks, the Doctor…is defeated by the top button of my jeans…” She giggled again as he leaned in close.

“Oh really?” He said softly, his hand quickly snaking around her back. With a mysterious movement of his fingers, her bra suddenly came undone. The Doctor grinned in victory, “I will have you know, Miss Smith, that it takes much more than that to defeat me.”

The low, teasing undercurrent of his voice made shivers go up her spine, even as she narrowed her eyes.

“Is that a challenge?” She cooed in a sweet voice, grabbing a handful of his blowsy shirt and pulling it out of his trousers. Pressing her advantage, she reached under the white fabric to touch his skin, silently rejoicing when she heard him gasp as saw him close his eyes.

“How’s this?” She asked, cheekily.

“All right,” He said, opening his eyes again and smiling at her, “I’ll concede defeat, this once.”

“Oh, good.” Sarah grinned and tugged at his shirt, “Then you won’t mind taking this off.”

He laughed and did as she asked, pulling it off over his head while she divested herself of her blouse and bra before leaning back onto the pillows to unfasten her jeans. Then she felt the weight of his gaze on her, heavy with desire.

“You’re beautiful, Sarah.” He said in a soft, reverent whisper. Their eyes locked, and Sarah lost herself in the endless blue depths of his eyes. She could feel the touch of his mind through their strange link, the potency of his desire, the intensity of his love and trust…

His fingers trailed down her body, their touch was cold, but still left that trail of heat flaring across every nerve.

‘fire and ice…’ she thought crazily, before coherent though fled as he moved his mouth to her breasts, sending her back arching off the bed.

Sarah was unaware of anything but the pleasure surging everywhere he touched her…his wonderfully deft fingers wandering slowly down her body, dancing teasingly around her thighs while she mewled in protest at the glorious torture he was putting her through, until at last his fingers slipped inside her, causing her to cry out.

“Please…” She whimpered, her eyes pleading.

“Please what, Sarah? Tell me what you want.”

“In…inside me…please…” She gasped.

“Anything for you,” He said, his resonant voice holding a burning intensity that thrilled and excited her. She looked up at him as he shifted position, moving so he was on top of her, their gaze stayed locked as he slowly, slowly pushed inside her, making both of them cry out. He moved so slowly, so carefully, mindful of her fragile, beautiful humanity. To Sarah, it simply felt…perfect, as though he knew exactly how to move. His voice was a constant in the air, speaking in a peculiar, lilting language Sarah had never heard before, but which she assumed must be his own language. Though the words were meaningless to her, the touch of his fingers to her temple meant everything. It was no longer her pleasure alone she could feel, as his ecstasy joined with hers, mixing together, feeding of each other’s pleasure until Sarah felt she was about to drown in it. She could feel the fire building up low in her belly. And the Doctor was…everywhere. So intimate, so close to her…

Sarah’s body arched as she cried out, white lights exploding behind her closed eyes. A second later, the Doctor joined her, shuddering with pleasure, his arms still wrapped around her, protectively, lovingly.

Endlessly.

 

 

It was sometime later when Sarah spoke again.

The Doctor was spooned up behind her, dozing comfortably in her warmth while she lie thinking. The conversation she had overheard earlier still worried at her, and the curiosity she had developed as a journalist told her that she simply had to ask.

“Doctor?” She said tentatively.

“Hmm?” He replied drowsily.

“Who’s Theta Sigma?”

She felt his muscles stiffen. And internally she winced, fearing she had just asked the wrong question. The Doctor rolled onto his back, looking at the ceiling. Sarah quickly turned onto her other side and looked at him anxiously.

“If I asked something I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry…”

The Doctor shook his head, “No…it’s all right.” He took a breath, “I’m Theta Sigma – or at least, I was.”

“That’s your name?” Sarah asked in surprise. He had never told anyone his real name…and though his lack of a proper name had bothered her at first, by now it had almost ceased to be relevant.

“It isn’t a name,” He said then, “It’s an Academy designation.”

Sarah frowned, not understanding.

“When new student enter the academy, they’re given a designation based on a mathematical formulae. It means that any tutor or lecturer in the Academy can instantly know what any given student is supposed to learn simply by asking for their designation.”

“Supposed to learn? You mean you don’t get to choose?” Sarah asked incredulously. The Doctor shook his head again, “No, you don’t get to choose. That decision is made for a Time Lord before he’s even created.” There was the faintest trace of bitterness in his voice, “One of the reasons I was looked down on while I was on Gallifrey was because I wanted to know more than I was supposed to.”

Sarah shook her head, unable to imagine such an upbringing. For someone like the Doctor, it must have been like living in a straightjacket.

“But it doesn’t matter now,” She said, putting a caressing hand on his chest. “You don’t need them.”

He smiled as he took her small hand in two his own.

“No,” He said, a faint smile touching his face, “I don’t. I told Borusa as much. I don’t think he liked it.”

Sarah snuggled up close to him and closed her eyes. The rest of Gallifrey didn’t matter – no one there could know the Doctor as she did.

With a smile, Sarah dropped off to sleep.

 

_Together you and I,_

_We hold the key to all the answers,_

_Let go._

 

THE END


End file.
